


Protect Me

by RaphaelSantiago (softsocky)



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dancing, It's simon's birthday, M/M, Nightclub, No Smut, Saphael, Sexual Verbal Abuse, Slight Violence, also, and, and raphael wears leather pants because what else, but there is kissing and its kinda implied, i kinda hate this, there is also:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsocky/pseuds/RaphaelSantiago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Simon’s 21st birthday, and he wants to go to a club. Much to Raphael’s disbelief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protect Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first mortal instruments fan fiction, and obviously, first Saphael fan fiction - go easy on me, I'm sure I'll improve over time! 
> 
> Song to listen to maybe: Us (GITCHII REMIX) by Kaskade and CID

THEY WERE IN IDRIS, and he was trying to be positive about the whole situation, but really? He was pissed.

 I mean, it was his twenty-first birthday, and yeah, sure, he was a vampire now and he wasn’t ever going to look a day over eighteen, but that wasn’t the point. The point is that all his friends were gone – even his somewhat non-friends, like Magnus and Alec, even Jace. _The point is_ that the only person left was Raphael. _Raphael Santiago,_ the man who was, currently, yelling at him.

He honestly wasn’t sure what it was about this time, and he had zoned out quite a while ago.

This was a daily routine for Simon – Raphael would bang on his door after discovering something he had done wrong, and, in turn, yell at him. Sometimes he would do so in Spanish, and while that would have stunned him to silence years ago, Simon had actually come to understand half of what Raphael was saying. This, however, didn’t make him pay any more attention than usual.

Despite that it had become something that endlessly bored him, Simon didn’t really learn from it – he continued to (purposefully) make mistakes, just because it would rile Raphael up. Simon dreaded the days that Raphael didn’t discover the things he had done. He dreaded the days where he was blamed for something that he hadn’t actually done _more._

Saying that though, Simon wouldn’t really ask for anything different. Since moving in back when he was eighteen, Simon had managed to convince Raphael to let Magnus renovate. The once cold and grim hotel was now in a liveable condition (if only he could _‘live’_ ) and the darkness no longer seemed to strangle Simon whenever he was awake.

“…Are you even listening to me?” Raphael noted how Simon’s eyes only just now flickered with recognition. He sighed deeply, “you do that every time, do you know that?” Their eyes met, and Simon just smirked, shrugging at his sire with pure delight all over his face.

Raphael just shook his head at the boy, _man_ , and noticed the way Simon’s hands were shaking slightly in his lap, and that his left foot would tap against the tiles of the kitchen floor, and how now and then he would scratch the back of his neck. Raphael narrowed his eyes, suspecting that something more important than his own complaining was bothering him.

Now days, Raphael didn’t even have to ask if Simon wanted help, or needed something from him – Raphael knew just from his body language. And right now it seemed Simon wanted something, and Raphael was dreading it. Their eyes met once more, and Raphael raised one eyebrow (he knew this still impressed Simon, and he tried to incorporate into any conversation with the man he could) at him. Words weren’t needed, and Simon laughed humorously, nervously.

“Uh, Raph…”

“Raphael.”

“…are you busy tonight?”

Raphael’s hand paused on the way to fix the cuff of his jacket – _had he heard Simon right?_ “Ah.” Right now, words were needed, but no words would come.

“it’s just, today’s is, y’know, my birthday and…you know everyone is in Idris, and you _know_ I wouldn’t ask you do anything like this if I had any other option, its just I don’t y’know?” Raphael noted how despite Simon’s vampiric state, there was a glistening line of sweat across his hairline. “Would you please come…to a club with me tonight?”

Simon was biting his lip. Raphael’s eyebrows were drawn together, and mouth slightly gaping. _Of all the things,_ Raphael thought. Simon’s own eyebrows were together, but not in shock, but in embarrassment, even nervousness ( _was that fear?_ ), and in all his time knowing Raphael, Simon had never seen him look so stunned.

Jumping up from the kitchen stool he stepped backwards, tripping over his own feet. Raphael made no move to catch him, and just watched Simon hit the floor with the same expression on his face. He scrambled to his feet again, hands up, “look, y’know what, don’t worry about it Raph-Raphael, it was a stupid thing to ask, I’m sorry, I’ll ah, ask one of the other’s, okay?”

Raphael’s expression softened remarkably when he saw the hurt in Simon’s eyes, but didn’t stop the man from hurrying away to his room. Raphael swore to himself before making his way to his own room, _“_ Eres un idiota!”

 

RAPHAEL WAS PACING HIS ROOM, feeling both guilty and idiotic, and wanting nothing more than to bang on Simon’s door and kiss away his troubles and sadness, and Simon’s anger at him. But, really, Raphael was scared to do that – honestly, he was scared just thinking about it.

 Since meeting Simon back when he was a human – he admits, kidnapping him was a little extreme, maybe, but making his shirt fall down was _not_ – he couldn’t really stand the way his mouth would always move and say these things he truly didn’t want to understand. But after he was turned, Raphael had become a lot more accustomed to Simon’s presence, getting to the stage where they had become what Simon calls “bros.” Raphael didn’t want to be Simon’s bro, he wanted to be Simon’s boyfriend.

 And yeah, Raphael admitted this to himself maybe a week after knowing Simon, even in his human form, okay, so what? Who could blame him – Simon has this beautiful wisp of hair on the top of his head that sometimes falls down under the rim of his glasses, and now that the doesn’t wear those Raphael can see his big gleaming eyes better, and the way they express his emotions more than anyone else he has ever known; he has appalling fashion sense, but Raphael has seen the stomach under those baggy t-shirts, and he keeps that image clear in his mind for late nights when he can’t sleep and he has no reason to be quiet. Raphael _was in love_ with Simon, the stupid vampire daylighter human-like man he was.

 And, it was because of this reason, that Raphael stripped of his clothes, got in the shower, and changed into the best “ _club”_ outfit he had.

 

AT ELEVEN PM, Raphael found himself second guessing his decision to knock on Simon’s door – the vampire hadn’t left his room since the outburst earlier in the evening, and Raphael wasn’t sure what to expect when – _if_ – Simon opened the door to him.

 But, nonetheless, he politely knocked three times, something he didn’t ordinarily do (Raphael had given Simon somewhat free reign of the hotel, meaning he could go into rooms however he pleased without knocking, so long as it wasn’t when Raphael was asleep. Simon kind of returned the favour, and that had meant only a few situations where Raphael had to restrain himself after seeing Simon getting changed but – that is a different story altogether) and waited patiently. He heard Simon scrambling off his bed – probably shutting his laptop in the process, mid game, no doubt, _nerd_ – and yanked the door open.

 Raphael had learnt Simon’s facial expressions over the years – shock, confusion, wonderment, fear. The man was so expressive it was hard not too. But right now, Raphael couldn’t help but notice the _disappointment_ on his face, but Raphael didn’t know if that was from seeing him, or if it was still on his face from earlier. Whatever the reason, Raphael wished it gone, as he hated the way it made his beautiful eyes sad and his smooth forehead crease.

 Simon’s hand gripped the edge of the door tightly, knuckles turning paler than normal. “Raphael, uh…hey.” It sounded like a question, Raphael noted, and he hated that.

 “Hey.” Raphael was smiling lightly.

It was then that Simon noticed what Raphael was wearing – tight leather pants wrapped around his legs in the way Simon had always wished his would, curved around his backside perfectly, accentuating the strength of his thighs and muscles; he had forgone his usual button up shirts, and instead he wore an thin, oversized burgundy t-shirt, and in this light, Simon could see the definition of his abdominal muscles, _moving on_ , Simon noted hastily; his cross, as per usual, around his neck; and black boots adorned his feet; on his fingers, rings from decades past twinkled in the yellow light above them, and Simon really, really wanted to kiss him. Like, badly. It was one of those cravings you had when you were having a really crappy day, and all you wanted was chocolate ice cream and to watch all the Harry Potter films back to back. Or even the craving for lip balm at the movies when you eat too much popcorn and makes your lips go dry – _anyways,_ that was what Simon was craving. But instead of Harry Potter and lip balm, he wanted Raphael. Scratch that, he _needed_ Raphael.

 Raphael wasn’t blind – actually his eyesight would be deemed _impossibly good_ to the mundanes – and he knew when someone was checking him out. It’s just, he was never expecting Simon to do it so blatantly at a time like this. He knew Simon was a bit on the clueless and idiotic side, but he had never gone this far into that title like he had right now.

 Raphael composed himself before he could get a giddy smile on his face at the realisation that Simon thought he looked good, and spoke again. “Are you just going to stare at me all night, or are we going to this club you wanna’ go to so badly?”

 Simon didn’t answer, but Raphael nearly whimpered at his massive grin.

 

SIMON REALLY DID CLEAN UP GOOD, Raphael noted, when he took the time to, anyway. He wore black jeans that hugged his legs nicely, if Raphael did say so himself, with a plain white shirt that Raphael had never seen before.

 They were walking down the road to where Simon said a great downworlder club was – Raphael wasn’t sure how Simon had found it, considering he didn’t ‘club’ that often – but Raphael just followed silently. Honestly, Raphael was having a really hard time functioning, because all he wanted to do was push Simon against the wall of the buildings they were passing, press kisses on his cheek, tell him he loves him, and take him home and give him a bath. But – no one could ever know that was something Raphael ever wanted to do to anyone because _what_.

 They heard the music before they saw the building, and when they rounded the corner, Raphael froze in his place. Raphael knew exactly what club this was, and he knew exactly what type of club this was.

 Simon had taken them to a _gay downworlder club_. Raphael was terrified, but more than that, _he was so fucking turned on._

 Simon turned to look at Raphael, smiled weakly, before reaching out and grabbing his upper arm. Raphael was tense, but relaxed instantly, hoping that Simon would hold on a little bit tighter, a little bit longer.

 He didn’t let go, and Raphael took that as a small victory.

 “C’mon Simon,” Raphael led the way to the entrance, where dim red lights shot down onto the doorway and security guards. They took one look at Simon’s arm on Raphael, and opened the barrier for them both.

 Simon scrambled beside Raphael, glancing over his shoulder back at the guard. “Seriously? Of all the times they don’t ask for ID?” He scoffed, “Raph,” Raphael’s heart would of fluttered if he still had a viable working one in his chest, “listen, I wanted them to check it this time – birthday discounts might actually be a thing.” Raphael glanced at Simon, smirked, and shook his head.

 As they walked the hall towards the bar and dancefloor, Simon obliviously catch the attention of many downworlders, vampires and werewolves and warlocks alike. Raphael slid an arm around Simon’s waist, gripping the material of his shirt. He felt Simon watching him, but he didn’t dare meet his eyes. Despite Simon being more familiar with his vampiric state now than he was when he was eighteen, he was clueless to the impact he had on downworlders, and how some of them really don’t take no for an answer. He had promised himself he would keep Simon safe years ago, and that promise was something he still swore to keep.

The hallway opened up into a large open space, a bar on the left across the entire wall, dim lighting underneath the bench by the stools. The dancefloor extended across two levels, the second above the DJ booth, much smaller than the main floor down below. The music was loud, loud enough that he felt it in his chest, but not loud enough to diminish his vampiric hearing abilities. The song was unfamiliar, though, but Simon was bobbing slightly to its rhythm, making Raphael’s arm tighten on his waist.

 Raphael led them to the free stools at the bar, “c’mon, I’ll get you a drink.” Simon followed willingly, hand still gripping Raphael’s arm, as though he feared he would turn and leave him at any moment. _As if,_ Raphael thought.

 

 AT THE CLUB, THEY SERVED ALL TYPES OF LIQUOR – rather, blood, but spiked with something that gave them the same affect of vodka shots. Simon, it seemed, didn’t need many to have a good time.

 They were seated still at the bar, Simon talking relentlessly about movies with obligatory club and bar scenes, and how they did nothing but contribute to that real life stereotype. “Romantic comedies,” Simon continued, “have given me unrealistic expectations in life partners.” Raphael tried not to get excited by the fact that Simon had been neutral in his word choice.

 Finishing the last of his drink, Raphael smirked at Simon across the way. Their knees were touching, Raphael’s hand wrapped around Simon’s forearm. Simon watched him slid his hand down to his own, Raphael’s fingers sliding along the back of his skin, tracing invisible patters there on the smooth skin. Raphael’s eyes flickered up to Simon’s, where they met, Simon noticing the darkness of Raphael’s eyes, and Raphael finding lust in Simon’s. Raphael inched closer, slowly, as though not to startle Simon, but –

 “Are you ready to dance?”

 The way Simon had said it – hurried, and jumbled all into one – took Raphael aback. He pulled away, ripping his hand from Simon’s as though his skin had been scorned. “I don’t dance.” He said it as a reminder to Simon, like the man had already known this. “You go dance, I’ll sit here and…observe.”

 Simon’s arms flopped to his side, eyes wide and comical. “Seriously Raphael? You’re gonna’ make me dance by myself on my _birthday?_ ” Simon got to his feet, wobbled drunkenly – Raphael did not snort, _he did not_ – and Simon slid between his legs, mouth as his ear. “Please Raphael…please.” Simon’s hands on his shoulders, hot breath on his ear, and a prickling of senses all along his body, made Raphael choke.

 “Ah, uh,” he stuttered, feeling Simon grin against his cheek, “yes, ok, I’ll dance with you, but only for a little bit!” He felt Simon’s lips press against his cheek so lightly he wasn’t really sure if it had happened, and was then dragged to the dancefloor.

 

 SIMON CONTINUED TO DRAG THEM UNTIL THEY WERE IN THE CENTRE OF THE DANCEFLOOR just as a new song began to play. Bodies around them were gyrating, grinding together in some soft of brainwashed routine that everyone seemed to know and get in synchronisation.

 Raphael had been to a club before – many, actually – and he knew how to dance, but dancing with Simon was something he wished he’d never have to do, because, well, the whole concept of it seemed so…impossible. But here they were. Dancing. Gyrating. Simon’s back pressed to his chest, eyes shut – either from trying to stay focused or from the liquor, maybe both – and his hips grinding into Raphael’s own, and Raphael felt like he was going to die. Again. Like this was level two, and level three was heaven, because this was the best feeling in Raphael’s life.

 Around the pair, couples were in similar positions – only a few individuals dancing up behind others, stealing them away from their partners.

 The song changed, and Simon spun around in Raphael’s arms, and when he saw Raphael’s lack of movement, stopped short. His face was amused, but annoyed, still. “Raphael Santiago.” The name rolled off his tongue, purring, tingling down Raphael’s spine. _Say that again…_ “If you don’t dance with me this instant, I swear to _God_.” Raphael smiled, remembering the day Simon had learnt to say God again, but how now he only used it on rare occasions, as if the world still burnt his throat the way Simon mentioned chili used to in salsa dip.

 When the bass dropped in the song, Simon gripped Raphael’s hips, leading him in dancing, matching their rhythm together. He turned in Raphael’s arms again, pressing his ass back into his crotch. Raphael growled under his breath quietly, but loud enough that Simon still would have heard it. Raphael slid his hands around Simon’s front, resting his hands on his hips, pulling him closer to his body. Simon giggled, _a beautiful sound_ , Raphael noted, and threw an arm back over his head, grabbing Raphael by the back of his neck. Simon’s palms were slick with perspiration, but Raphael loved the feeling of the support on his neck. Raphael bent down, pressing a delicate kiss to the curve of Simon’s neck, where the skin was exposed. Simon began to turn in his arms once more, eyes hungry and dark and causing shivers in Raphael’s body, and –

 “Raphael Santiago,” the voice was familiar and husky, and Raphael groaned, but not in the way Simon had made him.

 “Christian, what do you want?” Raphael’s eyes met the werewolf’s, and Simon stopped his dancing to watch curiously. His voice was sour and bitter. Raphael felt giddy again, though, when Simon tucked himself close to his side. Christian, whoever he was, Simon thought, kept watching him with a sly grin on his face. Simon twitched, thankful for the way Raphael gripped one of his hands in his own.

 Christian held up his own hands, defensively. “Now, now, Raphy–”

 Simon interrupted, “It’s Raphael.”

 “—no need to be like that, I was just admiring the new merchandise you’ve got here.” Raphael growled, tightening his grip on Simon, before turning to lead them back towards the bar.

 Christian grabbed Simon, yanking him away from Raphael’s body. He whimpered, meeting Raphael’s eyes desperately, Raphael fuming at the wolf before him. “He has such a pretty little face; don’t you think Raphy?”

 The wolf slid his hands up under Simon’s shirt, “pretty body, soft skin, and those _lips_.”

 In different circumstances, Raphael would agree, but right now, someone was touching his boy in ways he never had, and Simon looked close to crying, and Raphael looked close to killing. Moments earlier, Simon felt highly intoxicated, but right now, he had never felt soberer. Raphael stepped closer, slowly, a snarl on his face that Simon knew was hard to match, even for a wolf.

 “His lips? You know about those Raphael?” The wolf in question said cockily. “Like they’re made for sucking cock, don’t you think?” Christian laughed, Simon wished he was dead(er), and he had never seen the expression Raphael wore before. “Oh, you don’t know? Maybe we could test it out right now then, eh baby?” Christian pushed Simon to his knees, and all Simon could see from this angle was Raphael’s fist colliding with Christian’s, and the latter’s body falling heavily the dancefloor. Raphael grabbed Simon under the arms, dragging him from the club before the guards could get to them.

 They barged out through the doors they had entered through hours before. Raphael was fuming, Simon was – although shaken up – calming down significantly. _Raphael had punched the shit out of someone for him_.

 “Who was that?”

 “Someone who likes to break everything of mine.”

 “of yours?”

 Raphael met Simon’s eyes, stepped closer to him, noticing the expression there in his eyes. He had seen it before, in the club, when their fingers were entwined together and Raphael didn’t feel so alone anymore. He pressed Simon softly into the brick wall, not asking permission before kissing him. Despite Raphael’s earlier actions, the kiss was soft and gentle, delicate, calming – it was protective, a promise to Simon from Raphael that something like that would never happen again, and if it did, Raphael wouldn’t let them live next time.

 Raphael pulled away a few moments later, and Simon pressed his hands to his face, forcing their eyes to meet. Simon saw embarrassment there, but alongside that, he saw disappointment in himself, and Simon knew he felt as though he had let him down. Simon smiled, shook his head momentarily, and pressed his lips back to his, roughly this time, demanding that Raphael deepen the kiss.

 Raphael didn’t, however, instead pressed feather-light pecks to his pink lips. “I will never hurt you, Simon. I promise.” Raphael didn’t break eye contact, and Simon felt all of the remorse in his voice, felt the depth of his promise.

 “I know Raph…I trust you like I trust no one else.” Raphael took Simon’s cheek in his right hand, watching the way Simon leaned into his touch.

 “Simon I…” he choked on his words, “Simon what he did back there, what he said…that’s not why I’m here, that’s not why I—” he struggled to find his words again, and Simon placed his own hand over Raphael’s on his face. “Simon, I love you. I love you for you, and everything about you, and seeing that in there made me realise that I’d rather die all over again than not be able to protect you with every—”

 Simon cut him off, surging forwards, silencing him with his mouth. With one hand on his cheek, and another on his hip, Simon yanked his body against the length of his own. Finally, Raphael relented, pressing deeper into the kiss, opening his mouth, the kissing becoming full of tongue, teeth, and lips, clashing and colliding. This was what Raphael had wanted for years, and Simon too, couldn’t believe that this was happening.

 Raphael broke away, causing Simon to whine, but his lips trailed down his neck, replacing the whine with a loud groan. “Raph…Raphael, I…I love you too,” he groaned when Raphael bit down particularly hard. “I love you so much, I want you to protect me…I want you to protect me more and more but I want to protect you too,” Simon didn’t need to breathe, but he was panting, gripping Raphael’s shoulder, dragging his body closer to his own again. One of Raphael’s hands was trailing down his side, causing Simon to shiver, and when the hand fell down by his thigh, Simon go the message. Jumping up, Raphael caught him under his thighs, pressing him back into the wall. They both groaned when their crotch’s pressed together; Simon’s head falling back against the wall, Raphael’s falling on to Simon’s chest.

 Leaning back up to his face, Raphael stole another kiss, softer this time, despite their equally desperate, rotating hips. Simon, then, yanked his lips away from the elders. Raphael whined, chasing after his lips, but failed. Eyes meeting again, Simon spoke breathlessly, “lets go home.”

 

WHEN SIMON WOKE UP, HE KNEW IT WAS NEARLY SUNSET. He blinked awake, eyes blurry for a moment, before they cleared. In front of him he was faced with the bare skin of Raphael’s back, dark and beautiful, smooth and protective. He lightly ran a finger over his shoulder blades, over the definition of his muscles, feeling Raphael shiver, indicating he was waking up.

 Simon was a twenty-one-year-old vampire, maybe others would call him an eighteen-year-old immortal monster, but right now, Simon didn’t care for others. All he cared for was the man facing him now, smiling peacefully at him, tenderness in his eyes, and love in his kisses. Simon looked down at their naked bodies, knowing that if he could, he’d be blushing. Raphael went to speak, smile wide, but –

 “Does this mean I get to make you watch Star Wars now?”

 Raphael’s smile dropped, snorted, and he pushed Simon off the bed. Simon fell to the wooden floors with a loud crash, but just yanked the blankets down with him. Both men laughed, before Simon heard Raphael whisper, “I love you so much.”

 Simon kneeled up over the bed, pressing a kiss to Raphael’s cross on his chest, “thank you for always protecting me,” he whispered back.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think! :)


End file.
